


Catch My Breath

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Humanstuck, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One upon a time, two people met through an MMO they both happened to waste away their teenage years playing.  They clung onto one another, enjoying their highs and lows together, getting along despite numerous altercations and clashing personalities.  Somewhere along the line, distance faded to an idea in the back of their minds, and their friendship leveled up to something much more.  After all those years, the time has finally come...  The time for them to meet.  (Rule 63 Karkat ahead.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch My Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking of purrhaps making this into a long fic, with actual chapters! Not sure too nervous oh my gosh.

That lump in her throat?

 

Oh, you know, just her heart. No big deal. The organ beat beat beats away, its pace seeming to raise with each step she takes. 

 

Someone remind her why she agreed to this. She's stuck in a bustling crowd -- a mix of those filled with relief, those frustrated with the amount of time shaved off their short lives, and those people very akin to herself.

 

That is, those stepping off an airplane ride that lasted too long into an unfamiliar world. And on the other side of one hell of a walk...

 

Don't mind her need to stop for a looong moment. Just to shuffle off to the side and finish off her bottle of Pepsi, of course. Who doesn't love soda gone flat? It's not like she needs the time to settle frazzled nerves or to remind herself that she actually needs to breathe.

 

Fuck, okay. All right. She's really regretting the simple fact that her bottle of generic Xanax is sitting on her nightstand riiiight about now.

 

Her fingers carefully dig her phone out of her pocket, lips pulled into a slight frown thanks to the simple fact that her black nail polish is already chipped. Aaand that the large white letters on the screen tell her ten minutes have already drug themselves by.

 

Let's get this show on the fucking road.

 

She works her way through the massive building, past shops and restaurants with plenty of bustling customers. Past families trying to keep themselves all together. Past people anxiously waiting for their time to board.

 

There's the sign she's looking for. Baggage claim ahead, just up a slope. Through a walkway.

 

There is a good bit of hesitation to her every step once she reaches that slope. One reason, and one damn good reason only:

 

The very cause of all this school girl butterfly bullshit within her is most definitely standing at the end of the walkway. 

 

Tall, impossibly skinny, dark brown hair and those stupid glasses that she can't believe he actually has on his face. He doesn't notice her just yet, his attention on the phone in his hands. Must be texting her or obsessively checking arrival times, who knows. She doesn't have time to think over the little details when he's there, right fucking there. No longer a face on a screen or a voice over her headphones -- a real, very real live human being waiting for HER.

 

If there's one thing she can thank all of these embarrassing thoughts for, it's making the walk through the tunnel of utter terror so much faster. Just a few more steps. A couple more. Her eyes haven't left him, even while he still busies himself with who knows what.

 

Maybe that makes this next part easier -- the part where she utterly surprises even herself. I mean, she could have just stood there and greeted him with the usual. Awkward aggression. She could poke his arm harshly and not say a thing, or give him shit for not realizing she was right fucking here.

 

Instead... She doesn't stop walking. She just keeps going until her body meets his own, and she's able to throw her arms around him. No words, no greetings, simply holding onto Sollux fucking Captor like her very life depends on it. Good thing he takes it well, with hardly a stumble or jumping out of his skin. He doesn't even bother to put his phone away before she can feel his arms around her. Hah, it's not half as weak as she imagined.

 

Ruining this with words doesn't seem right. All she wants to do is remain in his embrace, her face buried in his chest. It's little moments like these that she thanks her body's lack of height. She can really take the time to breathe in him, to feel his warmth and the sound of his heart beating rapidly within him.

 

The need to pull away eventually grows within her, and she reluctantly obliges. Slightly. Karkat isn't ready to leave his arms just yet. She can have her own mushy beautifully romantic cheesy moment herself, all right? All those staring be damned. She has only one thing that deserves her stare right now, and that's... Well, after a heavy swallow, her attention turns to his face. Oh, fuck. Ohhh, god. He's so handsome that it almost hurts. Whatever her heart is doing within her chest right now is not normal beating. Just being able to see him actually grinning down at her, right here, right now...

 

"Hello, beautiful." JESUS, TAKE THE FUCKING WHEEL. His voice is... It's just..

 

"Shut up." That was an absolutely horrible response why what am I even thinking. Her embarrassment is slightly smoothed down when he laughs, and she picks up on the slight flush on his otherwise pale cheeks. Fuck, her own must resemble two apples stapled to her face.

 

Because she is entirely mature and knows how to handle social situations like this, his laughter ends with a pinch to his side. "Ow!" Which, thankfully, gratefully, doesn't end their embrace just yet. "Only in your presence for a minute and you're already abusing me. You'll have to make up for that, KK."

 

The scowl she's giving him is almost silly with how exaggerated it is. Is she feeling just slightly more at ease? What was once the fiery flight of acid puking butterflies in her stomach has turned into something so much more lovely, like a child halfway through opening their presents on Christmas morning. "Make me." She knows her moment isn't over just yet.

 

"I always have to do all the work."

 

Not quite. She realizes in the second after he's speaking that he's actually, fuck, he's actually leaning down toward her. This is the very moment she's been anticipating, waiting for, playing in her head over and over again. She's ready for this. Her heels leave the floor as she leans up and her arms tighten around his back.

 

Their lips meet in the middle.


End file.
